


Tell Me Softly

by oldmountainsoul



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/F, Guilt, Heartfelt Conversations, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmountainsoul/pseuds/oldmountainsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Nysse Kallig never planned on addressing her feelings, but when it comes to Ashara nothing ever goes quite as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Softly

Nysse clicks her tongue in annoyance-- she will get no further in her studies with the constant distracting prickling at the back of her skull. Her ancient Sith tomes will simply have to wait. Pulling herself to her feet, she tries to nail down the sensation. It isn’t difficult to locate the source; fluttery, nervous energy emanates from Ashara in waves. 

 

_ Ah.  _ Nysse’s annoyance fades, morphing into something perhaps more like disappointment. She had hoped Ashara would have known by now that she could come to her with anything, though Nysse would prefer not to think of just how far she would be willing to go to please her apprentice. Such thoughts were troubling, and possibly even dangerous for them both. No, it would not do to dwell on such things. 

 

Still, Nysse makes her way to the hyperdrive core, the room that Ashara had by now claimed as her own. Her apprentice sits, kneeling on the floor, brow furrowed as she desperately tries to focus and center herself. Nysse raps her knuckles on the doorframe. 

 

“Is something troubling you, Ashara?” she asks. The nervous energy flares again, and Ashara takes a moment to respond, chewing her lip. And then the fluttering dissipates entirely as Ashara opens her eyes. Briefly, it is replaced with another feeling-- something warm and light-- but it leaves too quickly for Nysse to recognize. 

 

“Not at the moment, no,”  Ashara says. “I was just trying to meditate.” 

 

Nysse arches a questioning eyebrow, “I take it that wasn’t going very well.” 

 

“Not really,” she admits. “It’s easier for me now than it was before-- ironic, isn’t it? I’m finding more peace than ever on a Sith ship of all places-- but it still doesn’t quite come  _ easily  _ to me.” 

 

“I can imagine. I’m glad you can find some measure of peace here. Though there was enough anxiety rolling off of you earlier that they might have felt it on Dromund Kaas,” Nysse says dryly.

 

Ashara flushes, “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t bother you.” 

 

Nysse shrugs, “It’s quite alright.” She crosses the room, closing the door behind her with a flick of her wrist, and takes a seat on the floor next to Ashara. “You know, you can always come to me if something is bothering you, Ashara. Your feelings are important to me,” she says. It almost frightens her, how soft and small her voice feels in her throat, the words slipping out and away from her before she can catch them and consider their every facet and effect.  

 

_ Shit. _

 

“I…” Ashara hesitates for a moment, the nervous energy flaring around her. And Nysse is not far behind, her own heart fluttering in her chest, the feeling escaping from the carefully crafted shields she holds around her thoughts. She has said something wrong, made some terrible mistake--

Ashara smiles, and the feeling is almost instantly replaced with something different that Nysse still can’t quite place, something soft and bright. “Thank you,” she says warmly, and Nysse all but faints from relief.

 

_ This is ridiculous. Pull yourself together _

 

“How do you do that, anyway?” Ashara asks, while Nysse is still reeling, still desperately trying to regain her composure. 

 

“Do what?” 

 

“You always seem to know what people are thinking.” 

 

_ If only,  _ she thinks to herself. She has had to learn how to gauge a person’s character in an instant, to see if they will help or harm her, and how best to manipulate every situation so that she comes out alive. She doubts her abilities, now. She can sense emotions as she always has, and how people react to her if they have not shielded themselves. But for all that she can feel from Ashara, she can’t seem to grasp her thoughts at all. 

 

_ Thank goodness she almost always speaks her mind then,  _ she says to herself, smiling ruefully. 

 

...Which is why Nysse is so concerned the other woman is being so reticent now.

 

“I’ve learned how to read people, if that’s what you mean. This is assisted by, but not entirely due to my connection to the Force. You should possess a similar skill, as all Force users do on some level,” she explains, carefully setting aside her own anxieties.

 

Ashara nods, “Yes, I remember several Jedi Masters who did something similar. I just… never had the chance to learn it.” 

 

Nysse pales.  _ And whose fault is that?   _ She takes a deep breath, pushing the thought away. That’s not the issue at hand, that is a thing of the past, not to be dwelled on now. 

 

“I’m sure you have some base awareness of it, it comes naturally to most. But recognizing it can be difficult at first, and it’s usually not more useful than knowing how to read their body language, especially since many of those we meet will be masking their emotions well. But it’s still a useful skill to have. You would like me to teach you to recognize them?” 

 

“If you’ll have me,” Ashara says brightly. 

 

“Then I’ll show you. Here, give me your hand,” Nysse says, and Ashara reaches out, lacing their fingers together. It feels so incredibly  _ right,  _ and Nysse almost forgets herself for a moment, savoring the warmth of Ashara’s fingers, rough with callouses from years of rigorous combat training. Distracted by that thought, she realizes all too late that in order to go through this exercise, she will have to let down her walls. She will have to let Ashara see through her, so that she can understand and recognize what she sees when she senses the surface emotions of others.

 

It is something far more intimate than she intended it to be. And that doesn’t terrify her nearly as much as it should. 

 

“Here, I’ll just-- I will do my best to emulate and explain what sensing each feeling is like. The contact should strengthen the connection so that you can know for certain that what you’re feeling is from me. Any questions?” 

 

Ashara shakes her head, her eyes already screwed shut in concentration. 

 

“Alright then,” Nysse says, and gradually lets her shields fall away, leaving herself completely vulnerable to Ashara’s scrutiny. 

 

What should she show her first? What does she feel  _ right now?  _

 

It doesn’t take her much soul searching. Here she feels….  _ Safe _ , even without her walls.  _ Pleased,  _ because she is here with Ashara and hasn’t once felt like a monster or made an ass of herself. She focuses on that, letting it flow out of herself into Ashara. 

 

“This one’s not very familiar,” Ashara says, biting her lip. 

 

“We don’t meet many happy people. The hazards of being on the run from a Dark Council member, I suppose. Can you describe it, remember what this feels like?” 

 

“It’s…. warm. Bright and safe and… pleasant. I like it.” 

 

“We often find ourselves drawn to happy people. Perhaps that is why, or at least part of it.” 

 

“I’m glad you still remember what it feels like,” Ashara teases, cracking one eye open with a grin. “You’re usually so cold and taciturn. We worry about you, you know.”

 

Nysse clears her throat, leveling her sternest glare on her student, but to no avail-- Ashara’s eyes are still shut. “Keeping my emotions masked doesn’t mean that I do not have them. It’s simply how I protect myself. Among the Sith, anything can be seen as a weakness. Perceptions are everything, to be perceived as weak or emotional is to die. I must always seem in control-- even,  _ especially  _ when I am vulnerable. There is no other way to survive.” 

 

Ashara frowns, biting her lip. “That’s awful,” she says, horrified.

 

Nysse shrugs. “It is what it is.” 

 

“That doesn’t make it any less awful.” 

 

“Perhaps. But it is my life, and I have come to terms with it. I am Sith, Ashara. I will not try to change you, but I must ask that you do not try to change me either. Now, shall we continue?” 

 

“Yes, of course,” Ashara replies, still chewing her lip, some of her anxiety fluttering up around her again. 

 

Nysse guides her through the basics of everything she knows-- the sharp, heavy tang of anger, the cold of fear and the grays of regret and sadness, the driving force that is ambition, and the tight, coiling feeling of spite, until she can think of no more. 

 

Ashara blinks. “Is that all?” 

 

“Did you have something else in mind?”

 

“Yes, well…. What about ‘love?’” 

 

 Nysse freezes. “What about it?” she says carefully, trying to hide her racing pulse. 

 

_ Does she know? She can’t possibly know. I haven’t been careful enough--  _ And Ashara is still holding her hand, her walls are still down, and her apprentice can feel every bit of fear, nervousness and affection that crosses her mind.

 

_ Shit.  _

 

Nysse almost laughs-- she’s terrified, exposed and vulnerable and wracked with guilt, but this, this is too much, and most certainly not what she was expecting. 

 

“Clever girl,” she says, chuckling. “It seems I’ve been outplayed. Were you planning on this, or did you just seize upon the opportunity as it arose?” 

 

Ashara flushes, ducking her head and not meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry. I did want to know more about you, about how you felt, if… if you cared about me. But this… it just  _ happened. _ ” 

“Oh, Ashara…” She reaches out with her free hand, caressing Ashara’s cheek. “Of course I care about you. How could I not?” Nysse braces herself, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh.

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because you are a good person, Ashara. You are so very brave, love, and so very wise. I was a lost cause before we even left Taris. I am not… I am not used to kindness, and you have been far kinder to me than I have ever deserved.” 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” 

 

“Because I have already taken you away from everything you knew-- you may have asked to come with me, but this is still… I didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position. I thought that if you knew, if  _ anyone  _ knew, that it would put you in danger. A foolish thought, really. By mere association with me, you are already at risk. And because… You deserve better than to be loved by someone like me,” Nysse slumps forward, her head in her hands. 

 

“Those sound like things that are  _ my  _ decisions to make, love. I appreciate your concern for me, but all those concerns are unfounded by one simple fact,” Ashara grins, leaning forward until their foreheads are touching, and Nysse has no choice but to look her in the eyes.

 

“And what would that be?” Nysse asks, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“I care about you too, you mynock,” she says playfully.

 

“Oh.  _ Oh.  _ I suppose that does take care of it, then.” 

 

“I would hope so,” Ashara laughs, as she leans in to kiss her. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.” 


End file.
